


Stranger in a Strange Bed

by issabella



Series: The Corgi Files [2]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Canon Disabled Character, Charles is a Tease, Corgis, Drinking, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Fluff, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, M/M, Smitten Erik, drunk Erik, hungover Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3263804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a stupid wager with his friend Emma, Erik wakes up in a strange bed, in a strange apartment, with a strange dog beside him, having no recollection of how he came to be there.</p><p>So he sets out to find out what exactly happened last night and whose bed he is in and why he is completely naked!</p><p>♠♠♠<br/>The Corgi Files is simply a collection of ficlets that only have one thing in common. The picture of a random corgi on tumbler gave me the idea for it, thus they all feature corgis but otherwise do not relate to each other. Oh and 99% of the time they are as fluffy as said corgis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger in a Strange Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Not an english native speaker, not beta'd.  
> The corgi that inspired this fic can be found here: http://issabella.tumblr.com/post/109515453268/stumpsthecorgi-melting-into-the-bed-corgi

Erik was awake. Which was a bad thing. His head was throbbing, his mouth tasted like some animal had died in there and despite having his eyes closed it was too bright. If only sleep would swallow him and he would wake up after the dreadful hangover was gone. But falling asleep again, while his head was pounding wasn't going to happen.

He needed some painkillers – and water.

He needed to pee.

Erik still lay there for another moment, hoping against hope that he would simply pass out again so he wouldn't have to deal with all those inconveniences of his body right now.

But of course it wasn't happening.

Slowly he pulled one arm out from under the covers. Probably he should be glad that he had made it into bed at all last night. He must have been on autopilot or something, because he sure couldn't remember it. Just as he couldn't remember taking off his clothes.

Mildly surprised he realised he was naked under the covers. 

Not unusual as such, but very much so when he got that drunk. Not that he did do that often – _'and I vow I will never get this drunk again. Not even Emma will be able to make me.'_  
Actually, maybe that he had ended up in bed was her doing. Not that he believed for one second that she had helped Erik drag his sorry, drunk ass home, but perhaps she had planted some order in his head to do so himself. That would be strangely kind – and kind and Emma Frost did not go together. So it was a rather unlikely explanation.

All the thinking had only made his headache worse, so he no longer could avoid the necessity to get some painkillers. 

Slowly he rolled to his side, careful not to make his headache worse by moving, and opened his eyes a crack.

There was one large brown eye, looking directly at him.

Erik blinked, stared, then rubbed a hand over his face.

It didn't change the fact, that there in bed beside him lay – a dog. It was not overly tall for a dog. It had large ears, yet short legs. Its muzzle looked a bit like a wolfs, only a lot less feral. It looked like a shrunk wolf, but with white and sand coloured fur.

"I don't own a dog." 

The dog looked unimpressed by the statement. Its ear moved, then it yawned, showing a large pink tongue and a row of sharp teeth.

Still staring at the animal atop the bedsheets some other fact made itself known to Erik's sleep and residue-alcohol muddled brain. Not only didn't he have a dog, he also didn't own brown and white bedlinen.

Slowly the vague dread, experienced by any drunk person finding themselves waking up naked in unfamiliar surroundings, started to fill him. He raised his gaze from the dog to look at the room he was in. Before he could really take anything in, the dog suddenly rolled onto its belly and sat up, startling Erik.

He struggled to sit up, rubbing a hand across his forehead as his headache made itself more prominently known.

The dog looked toward the door, then back at Erik.

"What? You want me to leave? Believe me, nothing I would rather -"

Suddenly there was a voice coming from somewhere outside the bedroom. "And good morning to you too. - Yes, I'm still alive. - No, Henry is with him." The voice was male. 

Erik's pulse quickened. Frantically, he tried to remember, but he was sure he hadn't heard the voice before - "Still asleep, last time I checked." Suddenly the voice was coming from a lot closer, though he hadn't heard any footsteps.

He fought the instinctive urge to scramble out of bed and run, or hide. But he was naked and confronting the owner of the strange dog, bed and apartment like this was even more embarrassing than having to face him in the bed. At least he had a blanket.

Though he, whoever he was, must have seen him naked after all. _'Just what the hell happened last night?'_

The door was pushed open, Erik froze, then blinked confused as he realised he was at eye-level with the man appearing in the doorway. It took him another moment to comprehend the man was in a wheelchair.

With one hand the man took the phone, which until now he had jammed between his ear and shoulder, and used his free hand to manoeuvre the wheelchair closer. "You're awake." There was a tentative smile on his lips and he studied Erik with bright blue eyes. 

Erik became suddenly very self-conscious about how he must look. Bleary eyed, hair a mess, skin the sickly pallor of one who had a hangover and lips dry and chafed. He should say something at least, thank the man, apologise, introduce himself – or had he done that already. If only he could remember what had happened last night!

The silence that hung heavily between them suddenly got interrupted by a female voice coming from the phone. "Charles! Charles, you still there? Did he kill you yet?"

The man cringed, smiled apologetically and lifted the phone to his ear. "Yes, I'm here. And no, he didn't kill me." He pushed a strand of brown wavy hair back behind an ear. It looked soft to touch. As did his cheeks that suddenly flushed a rosy colour. "Raven! I don't think that's nec -" He sighed, defeated and the dog on the bed whined, maybe in sympathy. Absently Erik reached out to pet its head.

The man looked at Erik. "I'm sorry. It's my sister – she wants me to tell you, that if you harm me, she will hunt you down and kill you."

Erik gaped. "What?"

"It's nothing personal. She simply thought it was a stupid thing to do, taking you back to my place. But I just couldn't leave you passed out in the streets." He raised the phone to his head again. “And I'm hardly helpless and can take care of myself.” He clearly said it to the woman, his sister, on the other end of the phone.

Erik felt his face grow hot. Had he been picked up like a stray – a unconscious stray – by this man and taken home and – He looked down at himself then at the man, and the wheelchair. "Did you, how, I can't..." He swallowed, trying dislodge the feel of a lump in the back of his dry throat. It was just as stubborn as his pride though.

Again, the voice, sister, from the phone interrupted. "Charles!"

The man, Charles, shrugged apologetically and answered, "Still not dead yet. Got to go – yes I'll tell him that you'll check up on me every thirty minutes so he doesn't get any funny ideas." Charles smiled at Erik and winked, then disconnected the call.

Erik's head started to buzz.

"I'm sorry, I can guess you have a headache and will want to clean up. Bathroom is through there." He gestured to another door, right beside the bed. "Just take whatever you need. And I've got painkillers in the kitchen – and coffee or orange juice, whatever you like. I can also make some breakfast, if you think your stomach can handle that."

Erik sure didn't know what to say to all that. A thank you would be appropriate, but instead all that left his mouth was. "Where are my clothes?"

"Oh, sorry. But, as I said, you passed out and, well, they got dirty, so I threw them in the washing machine this morning. Please feel free to borrow some of my clothes."

Erik still felt unable to come up with the thank you he should have uttered a little while back. Instead his mind latched onto the large minor detail. "You took my clothes?"

Charles smile grew ever so much brighter, an Erik wasn't sure if his hangover and blurry vision were to blame for said smile wavering deceptively around Charles' lips. "Yes." 

Erik stared at the man in his wheelchair, who had taken a stranger home, undressed him, put him in his bed and now was offering him breakfast. It was surreal. Erik needed a moment alone to process all this. "I'll just - " He pointed vaguely at the bathroom and made to get out of bed. He just got as far as swinging his legs out before realising again that he was naked under the sheets.  
He reeled back and quickly clutched the sheets around his waist.

The dog had jumped from the bed and was barking at him. He looked down at it, glad to focus on something other than Charles and contemplated for a moment to pick it up to shield his modesty. Though then he wasn't sure if it wouldn't bite.

Charles had pocketed his phone. He didn't laugh at Erik, but looked bright and innocent, except for that treacherous spark in his eyes. "The kitchen is down the corridor on the right. Whenever you're ready to join us – come Henry."

Erik watched as Charles manoeuvred his wheelchair out of the bedroom, the dog following him on stumpy legs.

#

The first thing Erik realised in the bathroom was that it was luxuriously large, with a spacious walk in shower. The second thing was that, since Charles was using a wheelchair, it had to be. Also everything was stored in low shelves and cupboards. Erik showered, and after only little hesitation took Charles up on his offer, generously using his shower gel, shampoo and making good use of the mouthwash standing on the edge of the sink.

Rummaging through Charles' cupboards to find clothing and get dressed was little bit more daunting. Erik wasn't sure if with clothes, Charles had meant underwear as well. But it sure would feel odd to wear a stranger's underwear so he just pulled on a pair of grey tracksuit pants, that were a little loose around his hips and a faded blue shirt

He took a moment to contemplate that he was still in the apartment of someone he basically didn't know - and whose clothes he was now wearing. Someone who seemed strangely unconcerned about taking a passed out stranger home. And instead of showing the least bit concern about who or what that stranger might turn out to be, he had undressed him, and put him to bed... _'And that smile of his, and his eyes-'_ It wasn't only the intense blue colour but somehow the man's gaze seemed to have gone right under Erik's skin.

All these observations made him even more agitated. Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He might have wanted to stay (hide) in the bedroom longer, but for the pounding headache which the warm water of the shower had sadly not been able to do anything against. He checked his image in the mirror one more time, ruffled a hand through his damp hair, before combing it back again with his fingers, huffed and headed for the aforementioned kitchen.

The kitchen, like the bathroom looked peculiar. Everything one would expect to find in a kitchen was there but the wall cupboards were placed lower, just as the worktop. Strategically placed was some extra space under the stove and sink, to move the wheelchair under. As curious as it all looked, Erik only gave it a fleeting glance, his gaze drawn to the large table in one corner, at which Charles sat, a cup of coffee in front of him.

As promised there was a glass of water, some orange juice and a package of painkillers waiting beside Charles. 

Suddenly something wet and cold touched Erik's bare feet. He shuffled forward, looking down to realise it was only the dog who had snuck up on him on stumpy legs and was now sniffing at his bare feet. It then looked up at him, tongue lolling and went over to its water bowl.

“Don't mind Henry, he's just very curious of any visitors.”Charles looked Erik up and down. 

Self-consciously, Erik barely stopped himself from reaching up to check his hair, wondering if it didn't look better if it was a bit ruffled after all. “Do you always take strangers home for the night?” 

The smile on Charles' face didn't fade, but it turned a little quirky at the corner of Charles' red lips. “Only those that stop a taxi for me and then pass out at my feet.”

“What?” Charles answer took Erik aback, still not remembering much of last night apart from the stupid wager with Emma.

Charles pointed at a chair, pushed against the wall, out of the way. “Why don't you take a seat and I fill you in on the details of yesterday night you seem to have forgotten.” 

Erik wanted answers, but even more he wanted the headache gone, so as awkward as it all was, he pushed the chair in front of the table, cringing at the sound it made and sat down. He downed the painkillers with the glass of water and followed it up with half the glass of orange juice. He actually felt a little better after that.

Charles watched him without saying anything yet, waiting fro Erik to get his bearings – or ask questions first.

“So – uhm, have we -”

“Have we what?”The amusement in Charles' voice made it clear what he thought Erik was about to ask.

Erik closed his eyes, hoping against hope for the ground to open and swallow him. A warm hand suddenly touched his, if only briefly. 

“I'm sorry my friend, I shouldn't tease you since you're already suffering from that hangover.”

On the contrary, Erik felt like he did deserve it for getting so drunk and out of control he didn't remember anything that had happened. (Though it was still Emma's fault – partly.) Though the brief touch of Charles' hand distracted Erik and sent an entirely different feeling through his body, making him aware that he was practically sitting there in front of Charles without underwear on.

Charles cleared his throat and Erik glanced at him, finding him biting at his lips, making them look even redder. “So what did you want to ask.”

“I overheard your sister on the phone calling you Charles, but did we meet and introduce each other before I passed out?”

“Well, you did, sort of, introduce yourself. You said to call you – Magneto. But I'm not sure if this is really your name.” 

“Oh, no! No it's not! Magneto is only a nickname – was! It was a nickname I liked to give myself as a child.” He had always liked the name, still thought it had a nice ring to it. But Charles' eyes, twinkling with amusement, made him suddenly doubt his taste. Next time he saw Emma he would – well he didn't know what yet. But he vowed he would never again let himself be lured into a bet with her. Or let her mess with his head. “I'm Erik, Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Charles Xavier. Pleasure to meet you, Erik.” Charles licked his lips, and Erik wasn't sure if that tiny gesture wasn't messing much more with his head than Emma ever could. “It's nice to finally know what to call you other than Magneto, what really is a mouthful, or 'the stranger in my bed'.”

Erik felt himself blushing, uncertain If Charles was teasing him or maybe there was something else in the tone of his voice. “So – uh - what exactly happened?” Erik felt tense, waiting for the answer. It couldn't have been something – scary. He wondered if giving Charles his childhood-nickname he had given himself when his powers awakened meant he had 'shown off' in any way. He couldn't have done anything bad though, could he: Otherwise he wouldn't have woken in Charles' bed but in a cell, or worse.

For a moment Charles looked thoughtful. “Well, we were at the same bar, and you already were very drunk. I'm not quite sure if you wanted to go inside or leave, cause you were standing in the entranceway, blocking it. When you realised me and my sister wanted to leave you started to apologise for being in the way and – I guess you got a little bit distracted, cause you didn't actually move aside.”

Charles' pensive expression made Erik dread to ask, and still he did. “Distracted with what?”

“Hmm, as I recall it, my eyes at first, though you quickly moved to complimenting my freckles since you seemed to run out of things you could compare my eyes to.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - “ His gaze got caught on the freckles dusting Charles' nose. “Or rather, I did, but I'm sorry for harassing you while drunk.”

To his relieve Charles seemed to take it with good humour. “They were some really nice things you said – though some a little strange too. Brilliant blue like 'the the tv-screen without a signal' is not exactly flattering.”

Before Erik's face could dissolve into a look of horror, Charles continued. “You went on until my sister pointed out that now the taxi she called had left. So you finally moved aside and told me you would get me a new taxi and since the one passing by next didn't stop – you stopped it.”

“I did what?” His throat had gone dry with worry. People said he tended to act rashly – even his own mother called him a little over dramatic at times. 

“You - “ Charles raised both hands, fingers splayed and waved them in the air a bit. “-did something like this and dragged the taxi that drove by back to where we stood.”

“Shit – sorry -” Erik shook his head, which promptly started to throb painfully again. He needed to – probably get a lawyer. Why hadn't he woken up in jail but a soft bed anyway. People got panicky for lesser displays of mutant powers and the police was always very happy to make an arrest. He needed to – call Emma. This was her fault after all, and she would have to help him out on this, because even with his savings he wouldn't be able to pay for what this would cost him. Plus he would have to say goodbye to the nice apartment he was saving up for.

“Sit down, please. There is no need to worry.”

Erik stared down at Charles, only then realising that he had gotten up on his feet. Charles was pressing his fingers to his forehead. He looked as if he too was suffering from a massive headache.

Slowly Erik sat down again.

“Better. Erik, just – calm your mind, please. There is no need to worry, because I took the liberty to take care of it. I usually don't mess around like that, but I figured this was an emergency and since you meant no harm and only wanted to help me, it seemed the better option for the taxi driver and his customers to forget the little incident.”

Erik gaped. “You - “ His gaze focused on Charles' hand, still touching his forehead. “You're a telepath?”

“Yes.” The smile was still there, though it became a little guarded.

“Why didn't you just make me clear the way? At the bar.”

“As I mentioned, in a way I did like what you said about me. Also I try to avoid a drunk person's mind. Or one with a hangover. Both tend to be rather messy places.”

“I'm sorry.” Erik had no idea why he was apologising to Charles, and more than once now. Well, he had taken him home instead of letting him lie in the gutter, and he really was grateful for that. Still Erik wasn't someone who usually felt like apologising much. After all he hadn't asked for Charles' help. But – he looked at Charles and – his heart started beating more quickly. And if he hadn't already made his interest in the man clear while drunk, Erik was sure his mind was now screaming it at Charles, the thought easy for him to pick up. 

Erik leant back a little, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

Charles observed the posture then looked at his coffee-cup and drank a sip. Still not looking at Erik he continued. “Anyway, you missed the hassle with the shocked taxi-driver, cause as soon as you had dragged the taxi back and made it stop, you passed out. I guess it was the mix of alcohol and using your powers that turned out to be too much.”

“I usually don't can – ah - .” Erik stuttered to a halt. He wanted to point out that stopping a car was no big deal for him while at the same time assuring that he wasn't usually getting as drunk as he had doing weird things with his powers.

There suddenly came a whine from around the floor. Erik looked down. Charles' dog had come over and was now pawing at one wheel of Charles' chair. As it noticed Erik looking, it moved over to him, pawing at Erik's leg instead, making a very distressed sound.

“Oh Henry, I'm so sorry, this has turned into a rather late morning for you, I know.” Charles bent down and petted the dog on the head. It looked at him, big brown eyes hopeful.

Still absently petting the dog, Charles gazed up at Erik, a strand of brown hair falling into his forehead. His face was about level with Erik's knees and rather close to Erik's crotch. For a moment that impish smirk was back on that red mouth.

Erik found himself unable to look away from the pale freckled face, while arousal was pooling low in his belly and groin. And he wasn't wearing any underwear! 

“Sorry for having to cut this short, but I need to take Henry out for his morning walk. We've been delaying it far too long today.”

Erik croaked, stuttering the now far too familiar reply. “No. I'm sorry.”

“You can stay here of course.”

“Do you need any help?”

Both sentences were uttered simultaneously. Erik gave a half-hearted laugh while Charles only sat up in his chair.

“I mean, I'm sure you can manage. After all you managed with me – as in getting me back to your place and - “He realised he was not yet ready to think to closely about Charles undressing an unconscious him. “But maybe you would like some company. At least your dog seemed to want me to come too.” 

He could just imagine Emma looking at him over Charles' shoulder and mouthing the word 'pathetic' at him. As well he could see both her and Charles' bonding over their shared mutation and making Erik's life hell. 'Fuck! What am I doing?'

Charles seemed thoughtful, before he finally nodded. “Alright.” His gaze travelled up and down Erik's body, and Erik had to resist the urge to sit up straighter – while wishing he had put on some of Charles' underwear after all.

“Not sure if you want to forge socks, it's still a bit chilly outside. Mine are in the bedroom - top drawer in the cupboard on the right.”

Erik nodded and stood up. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, and Erik...” 

Erik had just reached the kitchen door and turned back to Charles, who was looking thoughtfully straight ahead, then pursed his lips in an odd little smile and looked up at Erik's face. “Sorry, it's nothing.”

“Okay.” Erik felt rather self-conscious as he turned away and headed back to the bedroom to put on a pair of Charles' socks – and wash his face with cold water, trying to calm his mind and body.

 

#

It was obvious that for Henry it was rather urgent to get outside, since they barely made it to the first lamppost, before the dog lifted its leg to pee. It also was obvious that Charles surely needed no help. Erik had watched him manoeuvre his wheelchair out the door, locking up behind them, then getting into the elevator and out the front door, while leading the dog on a leash and making sure to not accidentally drive over the dogs paws. Erik on the other hand nearly stumbled over the dog and its leash at least twice. How did it manage to be so quick on such short legs anyway?

“Would you mind if we take a little walk, since I cut his evening walk short yesterday, as my sister and I went out.”

“No, of course not.” Erik took a deep breath. “I guess it will do me some good too.”

Charles nodded and led the way.

Erik looked around, trying to place the surrounding streets and houses. He zipped his leather jacket close. Charles had been right, the morning spring air was still brisk, and he was glad for the socks he now wore. He tried not to think about the lack of underwear anymore.

It didn't take long for them to reach a park. The low metal entrance gaze was pulled shut and without thinking Erik pushed it open with the flick of his hand.

He found Charles' smiling brightly at him. “Your mutation really is marvellous.”

Erik shrugged. “It's just a small gate. May I - “ He gestured at Charles wheelchair.

Charles looked a bit sceptical for a moment, but then shrugged. “Okay.”

Erik stretched out both hands to focus his powers on the wheelchair. He concentrated on having it steady in his grasp before lifting it up.

Henry whined. The leash was long enough so it was no trouble for the dog to stay on the ground and walk along while Erik floated the wheelchair across the gate and into the park. Seeing his owner float above him made the dog bark excitedly and jump up and down, in an attempt to reach Charles. Yet the barking was not as loud as the delightful laughter coming from Charles. “Brilliant.”

Erik grinned. Gently he sat the wheelchair down again. His headache, that had finally faded thanks to the painkillers, came back on – but looking at Charles' smiling face, Erik felt it was well worth it. “You've seen me move a taxi. That must have been more impressive.”

Charles patted Henry, who tried to climb onto Charles' lap as if needing to reassure itself that its owner bas back in reach and safe again. “Yes, but this is a much nicer way of using your powers. You moving that taxi had been somewhat scary. You gave no warning, just suddenly....” Charles gave little sideways tilt to his head.

“Scary? That from a telepath.”

Charles sat up a little straighter. “Ah – of course. Henry, down. Let's head to the pond.”

Henry did as he was told and barked at the mention of the word 'pond'. Charles moved his chair forward and followed a happy tongue-lolling dog, without sparing another glance for Erik.

For a moment Erik stared after him, then he jerked into motion.“No, Charles, I didn't mean...” He had to quicken his stride to catch up to Charles in his wheelchair. “Actually the reason I was so drunk was a telepath's fault.”

“What?” Charles didn't turn around, but he didn't need to. “Must be nice to have a scapegoat handy for your own actions.” Henry whined, distressed by Charles' suddenly bitter tone.

“No, I - “ Erik stopped and took a deep breath. Why wouldn't Charles let him explain. He put both hands to his head. The pressure only brought short relieve to his hammering head. He should simply turn around, head home, forget about the embarrassing morning as he had about the night. He could send Charles the clothes back. Somehow he was sure Charles' wouldn't tell anyone about it either.

The path Charles took made a turn to the left and quickly he and his dog became obscured by thickly growing bushes, that already were covered with freshly growing leaves. Erik started to run after him. “Charles, please, wait!”

Charles didn't wait, but then he had already reached what seemed to be his destination. A pond, with marsh marigold and reed growing at its edges. There were some ducks in the water too, though they had started swimming away from the shore as Charles and his dog approached. Even though Henry was kept on a tight leash and the dog seemed merely curious, wagging its stubby tail, tongue lolling.

Erik slowed down and walked up to him.

“Charles, I'm sorry if I hurt you with what I said. I guess it was my own fault for being so – stubborn. You see, a friend of mine, she's a telepath. And we did that stupid wager. She said that she could actually make me not feel drunk despite drinking and I said it wouldn't work. Well she won, I guess. I tried a little – okay, very hard to prove her wrong. I'm not usually getting this drunk or-”

Erik stopped as Charles finally looked up at him again. His gaze still guarded, he seemed to seize Erik up. “You trusted her to let her mess with your head. You didn't mind her tempering with your mind?”

“I know it was rather stupid – the wager, I mean. But I don't think just because one can do something doesn't mean you will abuse that power. You trusted me with floating your wheelchair. Despite what I did with the taxi.” Even if that had only been in his best intentions, but Erik realised Charles had misunderstood Erik's careless words .For some reason he didn't want to examine to closely yet, he didn't want Charles to turn away from him – but for him to smile. It did things to Erik. Nice things.

Charles observed Erik silently. He wondered if he was reading his mind, but felt it wouldn't be right to ask. Shifting tensely, Erik wondered what Charles would make of what he found in his head – though then Erik apparently had already said out loud what he thought of Charles – and he still had taken him home then.

“You know - “ Charles said hesitantly. “I could help you, ease that headache of yours.”

“You can?” Emma never had offered to do that for him. He sank down on one knee beside Charles' wheelchair, so to make it easy for him to reach for his head. “Please. I think it has gotten worse, despite the painkillers.”

Charles touched his index finger to his temple. “I don't actually need...”

Erik looked questing up at him. “Hm?” 

He found a slow smile playing around Charles' lips.

“Ah, actually, it's quite alright.” Charles lowered his hand from his forehead and put it on Erik's head. The touch was light at first, then Charles moved his fingers down to the back of Erik's neck. Erik closed his eyes, head tilting forward. The touch was increasing in a gentle pressure that made Erik want to sink his head further forward – into Charles lap maybe. Suddenly the constant throbbing of pain simply stopped. Erik's eyelids fluttered, but he refused to open them already.

Whenever Emma slid into his mind, he felt - something. It wasn't unpleasant, just something that told him of her presence. With Charles, there was – at first he thought there was nothing different, until he realised the warm feeling was not only coming from Charles' hand at the back of his neck. “You feel good.”

A low gasp escaped Charles, his fingers curled around strands of Erik's hair. “So, is your headache better?”

“Mhmmm.”

Charles' hand stayed right where it was, massaging Erik's scalp gently. Finally the movement stopped, then Charles drew back his hand.

Slowly Erik looked up. With the headache gone, thinking clearly seemed easier, though he still found himself staring at Charles' face mind blank, for a moment too long. Reluctantly he got back on his feet, his gaze trailing to the dog that was running up and down the edge of the pond now, nose pressed to the ground, sniffing at everything within its reach.

Self-consciously of where Charles had just touched him, he rubbed over the back of his head and neck. “Thank you. Hope that wasn't too bad for you, since you said hungover minds are not pleasant.”

Charles shook his head. “Even though you still had that headache you were a lot calmer now. It was a bit tricky to keep my shields up in the morning, since you were thinking rather loudly.”

“Sorry.” After a moment he added. “I seem to have to apologise a lot to you.”

“No need to, Erik. It was my own decision to take you along after all.”

That didn't make Erik feel better. He looked down at Charles in his wheelchair. There were still a lot of questions buzzing in his head. Why had Charles decided to help him? Was it just because he was a fellow mutant, or – he had said he had liked Erik flirting with him. How had he managed to get him back to his apartment? Had he just draped Erik's unconscious body over his lap like some awkward re-enactment of the Pietà and wheeled into the elevator with him. Or had he, after finding another taxi, asked the driver to get him upstairs. And then there was the part that he must have undressed Erik before tugging him into bed – Charles' bed.

“I hope you didn't stay up all night because I occupied your bed.”

“I slept on the couch. And before you start feeling guilty about that. It is a very comfortable couch and I sleep on it sometimes when I stay up reading late and can't be bothered to get back into the chair only to get to the bedroom to get into bed.”

Erik studied the chair and Charles' legs, covered by grey slacks. He wanted to ask how it had happened, if it was an accident or other medical condition that made Charles' loose the use of his legs. But then he set that question aside. Instead he let his gaze travel upwards to Charles' arms and broad shoulders, defined muscles showing underneath the tight-fitting blue shirt. For a moment he had a very clear idea how delectable Charles would look in a button-down shirt, the first few buttons standing open, revealing just enough of his skin collarbones to invite further investigation.

Erik's throat suddenly felt rather tight. He swallowed. “Did you wear a black button-down shirt yesterday?” Black making the pale skin look almost translucent, and the dusting of freckles stand out even more.

“Yes, I did. Do you remember?” Charles tilted his head to the side and back so he could look up at Erik standing close, thus revealing a long stretch of neck.

“I guess. I think – though I can't remember all the things I must have said about your eyes.” They _were_ incredibly blue though.

“Hm.” After a moment Charles turned back to look out over the pond. “Pity.”

“So how did you get me up into your apartment - and into bed?”

“My sister helped, berating me all the while what a stupid idea it was to take a stranger home.”

“Oh.” The idea of Charles undressing him while unconscious had been embarrassing, though a tiny part of him was simply curious if Charles had found to his liking what he saw. Having his sister, even though she was nothing more than a voice over the phone to Erik, help, was putting a damper on that thought.

Some of Erik's discomfort must have bled through, for suddenly Charles' added. “I only took off your underwear after she had left though.”

Erik's cheeks grew hot instantly. He aimed for a non-committal sound, but it came out almost squeaky, so he added. “Ah, why, I mean, I wondered...”

“I like to be thorough – and thought it would be more comfortable for you to have completely freshly washed clothes in the morning.”

“Ah...” Erik wasn't sure what Charles meant with thorough, though the part about washing his clothes seemed innocent enough, so Erik slowly relaxed.

“Also I was curious.”

Erik gaped at Charles. “Are you – flirting with me?”

“What if I did?”

Heart beating quickly Erik leant down, bracing his hands on the armrests of Charles' wheelchair, looking him right in the eyes. “Then I have to tell you that I was wrong – about your eyes, what colour they are.”

Charles quickly licked his lips, and Erik could feel his warm breath against his skin. He must know what Erik was thinking about him, still he seemed a little uncertain.

“They are the colour of the classic windows- start-up screen.”

Charles looked startled, then suddenly laughed, the sound sending delicious shivers down Erik's spine and making him grin broadly.

“I'm not sure I should fall for that.” But Charles was smiling.

“I assure you I can do better. Maybe with the right ambience. Say, candlelight and dinner.” Not even the dog having returned and pushing its wet dog-nose against Erik's calve could distract him from Charles' face.

“Hm, why don't we finish our little walk first, and then we take the next step. After all you only know me since waking up in my bed this morning.”

Erik nodded, though he hesitated to draw back from Charles just yet. “There is just one thing I would like to do. Usually you give the person in whose bed you wake up a good-morning kiss.”

“Oh.” Charles eyes lit up and before Erik could move he put a hand in Erik's neck and pulled him closer.

Erik had hoped to be allowed a chaste kiss of Charles red lips at least, but found Charles mouth warm and welcoming as he drew him into a breathless kiss.

Henry barked excitedly.

Erik could only agree.


End file.
